Dad Would you help me'
by Hogwarts or McKinley
Summary: Sam reveals himself a great father when his son needs a little helping hand from him.


'_Dad... Would you help me?'_

_by 'Hogwarts or McKinley?'_

_**Title:** Dad... Would you help me?_

_**Author:** Hogwarts or McKinley?_

_**Fandom:** Glee_

_**Pairing:** Kurt Hummel/Sam Evans_

_**Genre:** Romance_

_**Rating:** E for Everyone_

_**Warning(s):** Extreme puppy feelings_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the material used in this story._

_**Summary:** Sam reveals himself a great father when his son needs a little helping hand from him._

Kurt abruptly woke Sam up, who was fast asleep in their bed.

'Sam! Sam! Wake up! It's seven a.m.! We'll be late!'

Sam opened his eyes. Kurt's face was glowing thanks to the New York spring's morning sun of that day and his eyes were still dull by the sleep, but he could see his husband's face.

'Good morning, by the way,' smiled Sam.

'I'm sorry, Sam. Good morning. Now, wake up!'

'Why are you dressed?'

'Because I have to bring Emma to the kindergarten, then go to the theatre, remember?'

'Right. And...'

'And you are bringing Michael to school. Is everything clear?'

'Clear as the sun ray that's illuminating your face.'

Kurt stood for a moment and stared at Sam's face with a dumb expression. Then he smiled.

'You're a dork.'

He kissed him.

'You know... You realized you love someone when you can kiss him in the morning, when he didn't brush his teeth.'

'That's why I love you,' smiled Sam.

'Aw, just... Just shut up!' said Kurt, kissing him once more.

Sam stood up and chose his clothes from their wardrobe.

'So, we all already had breakfast. The coffee is ready. Michael's in the bathroom, brushing his teeth.'

Kurt kissed him once more.

'I gotta go!'

'Wait for me!'

Sam put on a white sweatshirt and went with Kurt to the living room.

She was there. The last member of the Evans-Hummel family. Emma.

She was one year old and, strangely, looked very much like Kurt. She had beautiful curly hazel hair, blue eyes and an angelic face.

When the little girl saw his father, she started to laugh and wished him good morning with a loud laughter, her arms longing for him.

'Here she is, daddy's princess!' said Sam.

He picked her up into his arms and kissed her repeatedly on her cheek.

'We look beautiful this morning, don't we!'

'Sam, help me put this on her,' said Kurt, holding a little red jacket.

When Emma was ready, Sam put her in her pushchair.

'Have a nice day, honey,' said Sam. 'See you tonight.'

'By Sam,' said Kurt. 'I love you,' he kissed Sam.

Sam waved her daughter and his husband goodbye, closed the door and went back to his bedroom, looking for the last pieces of clothing.

Even though it didn't took him very long to choose his clothes, Michael, Kurt and Sam's eldest son, was still in the bathroom.

Sam reached the door and knocked on it.

'Michael, is everything okay?'

'Yes, dad! I'm almost done!'

But, before Sam could hear those words he, worried, had already opened the door.

The room revealed Michael in front of the sink, but Sam could see him through the glass. He looked like him. He was twelve and had green eyes framed by silky blond hair.

'What are you doing?'

His face was covered in shaving foam and he was holding a razor.

'Uhm... Dad... I was- I mean- I was trying to-...,' stuttered Michael.

Sam gazed at him, then, he smiled.

'Dad... Would you help me?'

Still smiling and looking at him, Sam approached his son.

'Let's see... Well, the foam's okay,' said Sam, analyzing what his son had done.

'I know, I've seen you and dad doing it thousands of times, it's just- I'm afraid of getting hurt.'

'Here, I'll show you.'

Sam put some foam on his face and took another razor.

'Okay, so, you hold it like this and then you simply shave.'

He moved the razor on his skin and did it.

'See? You can't get hurt.'

Michael approached the razor to his skin, looked at his father, and did it.

'That was easy!'

'Told you,' said Sam. 'Will you do it with me?'

'Sure, dad.'

Michael was growing up, but every time Sam heard that word, he felt shivers down his spine. Being called 'dad' by his son was one of the greatest emotions life had given him. That, and Kurt. He still remembered the first time Michael said it. He was a little older than Emma and both Sam and Kurt were super excited. And both of them said he was referring to him.

'So, how is it going at school?'

'Uhm, you know, usual stuff.'

'Any girls?'

'Dad!'

'What?'

'I'm not telling you!'

'Why?' asked Sam, still shaving.

'Because... It's private!'

Sam smiled. 'Is she pretty?'

'Dad!' insisted Michael.

'Well, it happens that I dated the most beautiful girl in his school.'

'What?'

'Yeah. And so did your dad. Then I confessed my love to him and we started dating.'

'Well, then... Yes, she's pretty.'

'Have you told her?'

'Are you kidding? You never tell a girl you like her.'

'Michael, listen, that story that you don't tell a girl you like her is utterly stupid. Why shouldn't you tell her? You must take the risk! You won't look like an idiot. You may date her!'

'I guess... I guess that's kinda tru- OUCH!'

'What happened?'

'I cut myself. Oh God, look at the blood!'

A little drop of blood was coming out of the small wound.

'Wait.'

Sam took a little bit of toilet paper and put it on the wound.

'When you cut yourself, always put one of that. Okay?'

'Okay, dad.'

'Now, let me see what we have here,' said Sam, grabbing his son's head in his hands and watching how his son had shaved himself. 'Pretty good. Nice job.'

'Thanks, dad.'

'And now... The final touch!'

Sam grabbed a little glass bottle from a shelf, opened it and poured some of the liquid in his palms.

'It will hurt a bit, but _ladies_, and your dad, _love it_!' said Sam, in a nice '50s jazz singer impression.

His son smiled.

'Ready?'

Michael nodded.

Sam gently put the aftershave on his son's skin, that slowly became pinker.

'How does it go?' asked Sam, looking at him in the mirror.

'If you say ladies like it...'

'They do,' smiled Sam.

He stared at the picture in his looking-glass for a moment. He was standing behind his son, his hands on his shoulders. It looked like one of those pictures you get when you buy a new frame. The only difference was that this time, that picture was real.

Sam kissed his son on his forehead.

'Dad? What are you doing?'

'Nothing. Go and get your stuff. We're terribly late.'

He was rushing out of the bathroom when his son called him.

'Hey, dad. Thank you.'

'No problem, buddy!'


End file.
